FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND
Melody glanced up at her beloved Adrian, squinting against the sunlight directly behind her fiancÈe’s head. She reached up to stroke his cheek slightly, but stopped when she saw the expression upon his face.
"Are you all right?" she asked. Adrian nodded, his features contorting suddenly, He pressed a hand to his chest, and Melody had the crazy, frightening idea that he might be having a heart attack, in spite of his youth.
As quickly as his apparent pain began, however, it vanished. Adrian shook his head slightly, and then grasped Melody’s shoulder in reassurance.
"It was just a sudden sensation- right here- in my chest- a strange feeling as if – couldn’t breathe for a moment- but really, I am quite fine now. " He glanced up at the sun, gauging the hour. Melody slumped slightly, pouting. She moved to the edge of the bed, preparing to get to her feet.
"Do you have to go so early?" she pleaded, but playfully. She’d known about his appointment since the day before. Adrian favored her with an indulgent smile, showing all of his teeth. Melody returned an equally toothsome smile. Adrian got to his feet, making his way to the dining chamber for a quick breakfast before heading out to the morgue. Just before he vacated the bedroom, he turned to look at Melody once more.
"I love you, Mel," he told her.
Adrian nodded at the man standing watch at the entrance to the morgue as he moved forward through the doorway, to come face to face with the lead investigator working the current case. The very case Adrian had been called in to consult for, albeit he was unsure why yet.
"Hello Adrian, " the portly man standing next to an open body drawer remarked, jabbing a thumb at the stooped, older figure next to him. "This is Dolan, the medical examiner. Dolan, Adrian. I call Adrian in to consult on . . . unusual circumstances." Dolan nodded.
"Accurate assessment, Casey," the older man said, indicating the body lying upon the drawer. Adrian drew closer, surmising that Casey wanted him to look the corpse over. As soon as he got a good look, though, Adrian’s stomach did an extremely unpleasant somersault. He looked away instinctively before he looked up at the two men. Dolan broke the silence first.
"Death by asphyxiation," the medical examiner noted, "he was no longer able to breathe- his oxygen source was cut off." A sudden flash of his earlier chest pains made Adrian twitch with uncomfortable recollection. Unconsciously, he touched his chest with a hand as he scrutinized the body more carefully, biting his lip to prevent it from lifting in a snarl of disgust.
The skin was wrong. It was too smooth, without texture, and of the strangest hue, nowhere near a color match of any being Adrian had ever seen. Not that of people or animals, that was. Perhaps some plants. The skin was far from the only thing wrong with the corpse, though. The eyes were way too closely set; the teeth were broad and flat, much too large. It had way too much hair upon its body, its head. But the neck . . . the neck was the worst part. Besides the hands.
"That thing can’t be one of us," Adrian exclaimed, how turning his back upon the corpse. Casey and Dolan exchanged glances. Casey nodded at Dolan as if to say yes, tell him. Dolan pursed his lips, and then with a smack, addressed Adrian.
"He used to be. Blood, subcutaneous skin samples, organ placement, it all checks out. These . . . differences are mainly superficial. Surface only. The one major difference, is of course-"
"The neck," Adrian finished for him.
Adrian specialized in studies of the esoteric. The strange, the mystical, the unexplained. He was a scholar in many subjects beyond the ken of his fellow men and women. Casey had called upon him in a couple of cases over the years, asking for input upon objects of unknown origin or an oddly suspicious cause of death. Adrian felt he had indeed contributed to solving some mysterious, but this new case was so far beyond anything he had ever come across in his studies. And yet-
And yet . . . there was something familiar. Something about beings that were . . . different. Perhaps the library at the University would have some answers. The Special Collections room should have some texts.
Adrian nearly regretted his decision to do research at the library. He’d forgotten how uneasy some of these texts made him. Even to touch them, let alone read their contents. However, his instincts proved true. There had been something familiar about the strange being’s appearance. It was some kind of mutation that cropped up often in the denizens who lived close to the beach, about fives miles out from the town where Adrian resided. The "Innsmouth Look", it was called. It seemed that often, the people who lived there would change in appearance to look more and more like the creatures beyond the seashore, and less like themselves. They’d spend more and more time at the beach, and were rumored to disappear one day forever, gone into the world of deep blue.
Adrian’s flesh crawled as he looked over the names of the deities that these poor beings had begun paying worship to, effecting the changes that made them so unnatural. They actually believed that they’d become immortal in giving themselves over to these ancient beings of power. So . . . blasphemous. He rubbed his temples, wishing he could blot out everything he’d just read. At least, he could go home for a while, be with Melody before starting a new day. He needed some rest before tackling this case. He did, however, convince the senior librarian to allow him to check out one of the limited access texts- a history of the Innsmouth family lineages. A little fright reading to do at home.
Contrary to Adrian’s intent, he did not find the opportunity to peruse the text for another two days. When he did, he found the information just as disturbing as he had anticipated. Interspersed with the accounts of marriages and deaths and births, were tales of disappearances, of murders, and of changes. The few illustrations included in the text caused bile to rise into Adrian’s throat. The typo regarding the Whatley lineage made Adrian even more ill.
It had to be a typo. There was no way that Adrian’s great-grandmother was related to the Whateleys, the clan with the strongest "Innsmouth look" genetics. Adrian decided he needed to go to Innsmouth and find out the truth. The moment he made the decision, a sudden pain flared up in his chest and throat. He clapped one hand to his chest, one hand to his neck, struggling to draw in oxygen. He remained doubled over the table for a few moments that seemed an eternity.
The voyage to Innsmouth would be a trip requiring a few days, so Adrian began making preparations. Fortunately, he could travel light, since amongst his studies, he had also learned quite a bit of knowledge about fauna and flora he could subsist upon during his journey. Melody asked to come along, but Adrian seemed to feel as if there were a great shadow looming over his head. He even caught himself glancing up more than once to ascertain that there was nothing blotting out the sunlight. He assured Melody that he would return to her in no time at all.
Early the next day, when it was still dark, Adrian set out on his journey. It was a lonely journey, even if his surroundings were beautiful and serene. He enjoyed looking at the forests, the brightly colored creatures even as he drew closer to the seashore. He stopped for the night at an accommodation for travelers, where the food was fresh, and the company pleasant without being intrusive. Adrian did receive an unpleasant shock when he noticed a couple seated in the darkest corner of the common room. The man ‘s features were indiscernible within the shadows, but the woman’s face was all too visible, along with the strange features Adrian was too familiar with by now. Adrian made his way to his bedchamber, hoping to get some rest. His nightmare-filled veneer of sleep barely allowed him any rest, however.
The end of the next day, Adrian found himself approaching the outskirts of the town called Innsmouth. He could just make out the edge of the ocean where it met beach. Rather than waste any further time staying over at another place of accommodation, he decided to push on and find a place to sleep in Innsmouth, to begin his investigation in the morning. It was difficult going, in near pitch-blackness, and Adrian cut his foot on a particularly sharp piece of rock (at least he hoped it was rock, and not something else that could cause severe infection). Consequently, he spent another restless night as his foot throbbed painfully, wrapped in a makeshift bandage Adrian had fashioned from the brand, pliant leaves of a useful plant just outside the building.
Exhausted, nauseated, and anxious, Adrian rose quite early in the morning to track down the town records, to track down the source of the typo.
It was easily one of the most unpleasant days Arian could remember in his entire existence. He encountered so many people with the "Innsmouth Look", and also saw with his own eyes, an individual at the very edge of the sea, cross the boundary of the water to immerse itself in the beyond.
Then it was true. It seemed that the people of Innsmouth, having pledged their souls to the strange gods beyond the sea, underwent a horrible change, one that would render them unable to live in the natural world, but to cross the water boundary, to live forever, but as a twisted, perverse creature doomed never to return to the world it had been born into. Adrian’s chest seemed to hurt anew, every time he saw the unnatural features of one of the denizens as they moved around and past him.
His day only became worse after his visit to the town records office. The evidence was irrefutable. There was no typo. He was a distant cousin of these repugnant Whateleys. There was even a church, built by his disreputable ancestors, in honor of their strange deities. Adrian had taken a look inside, staring at the strange symbols so unfamiliar to him; nothing like the comforting dÈcor of the church he’d grown up attending. The place felt out of kilter with everything else- almost too dry. Extreme pain had seized Adrian then, but no one came to his aid. Because after all, he seemed to be praying, slumped over on his knees.
Adrian had no recollection of returning to the bedchamber he had rented for the night, but there he lay, upon the bedding, staring up at the stars as they wavered and rippled overhead. The sudden knock upon his doorway startled a yelp out of Adrian. Another yelp escaped his lips when he looked up to see Melody there, her lovely face alight with her smile.
"Melody!" he exclaimed, his voice fractured with equal parts joy and worry. "How did you get here?" She looked down shyly.
"I was able to find a trade caravan headed here the same day you left. Although they traveled a little slower, they were still able to bring me here in safety. Oh, Adrian, are you alright, you look so-" she broke off, her fingers to her mouth.
"It has been a hard two days, my love," Adrian told her, as he approached her. She shrank back just slightly, causing Adrian to stop, puzzled at her reaction. She seemed to overcome her sudden reluctance and went to him, holding him close.
"You look so changed, Adrian. What has happened to you here?" Adrian took her hands in his, and drew her to the bed.
"I shall tell you in the morning. I am far too exhausted to get into all of it, if you don’t mind? Oh, but I am glad you are here, you are indeed welcome!" Adrian exclaimed, laying his head in Melody’s lap. She stroked his forehead and cheeks, but when she tried to rub his chest, Adrian took her wrists into his hands as gently as he could to prevent contact with the tender flesh there.
He fell asleep quickly enough, but then the nightmares came, and he woke up in the small hours of the night wracked with pain and gasping. He could see the false dawn coming. Soon the sun would be up, and Adrian could return home with his love. He was unable to find the balm of oblivion again, however, and lay next to Melody with eyes wide open until the sun was well up over the horizon. He stared at the horizon. He could see the beach. The beach that his strange ancestors so craved, so believed was the way to immortality. Perhaps he should take a better, closer look at this border between the two worlds.
As subtly as he could, in order not to wake up Melody, he slid off the bed, and slipped out of the room. He glanced back at Melody just before he left. "I love you, Melody," he whispered.
As he neared the beach, he listened to the hypnotic rhythm of the surf breaking upon the rocks and shore. This rhythm seemed to reverberate within his soul, calling to some mist-shrouded memory within Adrian. This was a sound his blood knew. He drew closer and closer to the shore. Strangely enough, the pain within his chest now sat comfortably within his body, more of a healing itch than a searing agony, so Adrian was able to continue moving towards the shore without being bent in half with torment.
When he reached the very edge, Adrian paused. He was afraid, but only for a moment. He was a Whatley! He was destined for the other world, to live forever and ever in glory! He thrust his head through the water’s surface, and took a long, deep breath. When he did not die, he laughed and laughed, as he kept on walking.
An hour later, the frantic Melody broke the surface of the water. Blinking her eyes rapidly at the dry heart of the air, she kept her gills safely below the water as she stared with inexplicable dread at the footprints in the sand. Her beloved Adrian’s footprints, but so changed. She couldn’t even see the webbing that should have been between his toes. Tears slipping down into the ocean, Melody took one last, long look at the terrible, mysterious world of earth and air and sky before she dove down under the water, to swim back home. Alone.
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